


It Lives

by Dacia_Schmiiidt



Series: Crossovers that wouldn't shake free [1]
Category: Ashes to Ashes (UK TV), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, I was proud of it at the time, I wrote this in 2009, Minimally edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 12:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13858080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dacia_Schmiiidt/pseuds/Dacia_Schmiiidt
Summary: Molly Drake thought that she was getting her mum back. More and more, that does not look like the case and she's grasping for things to blame.





	It Lives

**Author's Note:**

> This is old. Like, I wrote it when I was 13/14. Eh, it's not the worst thing that I've ever written and I dearly wanted to post something on this site, just so that I had something. I was proud of it at the time, so I thought I'd share it and figure our how posting works on here.

It was the car's fault.  


That was Molly's thesis. Her mum had woken up on the same day as Evan had bought the car as a getting better present, something Molly had suggested through the relief of hearing that Alex Drake had made it through the operation that removed the bullet from her skull.  


The day Evan had bought the car, her mum had woken up, had some sort of panic attack and had to be sedated. Molly supposed that had been one of the most frightening things in her life, seeing her mum run down the corridors of the hospital, still clad in her surgical gown and bandages wrapped in a tight turban around her head, screaming like an escapee from a horrible asylum.  


She'd calmed down eventually. But every now and again Molly caught her glancing over at one of the screens that surrounded her and shuddering, or whispering 'no, no...' or sometimes ' Gene...just go...’. Molly was only twelve, but she was her mother's daughter and could tell that what Alex was seeing on those screens definitely wasn't her medical information.  


It continued, even when she had been allowed to go home. Sometimes she'd stare disbelievingly at the computer or TV screen, or sometimes she'd seem afraid of sleeping. Molly could here muttering, some nights, saying ' No... I can't go back...I'm home...Gene...'. There he was again. This mysterious Gene.  


Molly had asked one day. She built up the courage and asked, 'Who's Gene, Mummy?' and was met with a shocked silence.  


Eventually, Alex said, hoarsely, 'How do you know about Gene?'. Molly couldn't answer. She couldn't very well say she was concerned for the mental health of her mother. She was surprised when Alex said, ' He's an old...friend...An old friend.'  


Molly doubted that then, and she found herself disbelieving it more when the car was finally presented, and Alex had gone deadly pale. She muttered that bamboozling name ' Gene!'  


Molly hadn't ever really been sure about the car, even at the beginning. It wasn't something she could imagine her mother, cool, calm, sober Alex Drake, driving.  


Evan said that it was modelled after a flame red 1980's Audi Quattro.  


A crunch of gravel made her turn around to find Alex on her knees, eyes glued to the car. Sobs wracked her frame. Molly dropped to her knees as well, lowering herself to meet her mother's eyes.  


" Mummy? Mummy, what's wrong?" she asked, softly. Alex merely shook her head, tears making tracks on her anguished face. Molly threw her arms around her, squeezing her tight as if to never let her go.  


"Why?" she heard Alex say," Why can't he leave me alone?"  


Molly felt as though their situations were reversed; that she was the mother and Alex was the scared little girl in need of comforting.  


After that, Alex showed less signs of being tormented by this Gene character: she wouldn't shy away from TV screens and she didn't argue with him in her dreams as much. Any outsider would believe that Alex was a perfectly healthy woman. But Molly knew that her mother was still seeing him out of the corner of her eyes. She could tell when Gene appeared on the telly or computer by the look of defiance and irritation that crossed her mother's face. Good, she thought, she's fighting him, maybe he'll go away, and Mummy will get better. Maybe.  


Molly was still unsure about the car. Alex would only drive it if she couldn't avoid it, preferring to take the bus or the underground (even on Friday nights. This must have been a sign of true hate.). In the Quattro, Alex was visibly uncomfortable, keeping her eyes firmly on the road as if trying not to pay attention to what she was driving. Molly could understand, somewhat. Even without this Gene, it would be pretty weird driving with that weird face on the steering wheel staring up at you.  


The face was red and looked like a jigsaw as it was made out of geometric shapes. It wouldn't have looked out of place on one of those toy robots she saw on the high-street, in shop windows. The ones all the rich kids bought for Christmas that could shoot real lasers or did the conga or something.  


Molly wasn't an expert, but she was sure that wasn't the Audi logo.  


***

It had been four months since Alex had been released from hospital. Three since she had received the Quattro. Four months of Alex fighting off Gene. Molly had had enough. She was an observant girl and smart enough to make the connections. Her mum was always most distressed in or around the car. Therefore, the car was the centre of the problem. And Molly was planning on dealing with it the best way she knew how.  


She stared at it hatefully from her bedroom window. The bright red paint job was painfully conspicuous against the grey of the driveway. One way or another, this was ending. She couldn't take it; her mother was couldn't take it. Enough was enough.  


She slipped on her robe and her slippers. It was a mild night with little wind. The hustle and bustle that many people associated with London sounded a million miles away. She walked up to the Quattro, keeping her eyes on it as though it might bolt at any minute. Then, she opened the driver's door and got in.  


There wasn't anything about the Quattro's inside that set it out from any other car. The seats were that grey, plastic-y upholstery and the dashboard was grey plastic. Even with the weird robot face on the steering wheel, it was just like any other car. Molly traced the outline of the face, a troubled frown coming across her own.  


"Well," she said, softly." 'Gene'. Is that you? Are you Gene? It's what she called you, my mum." Molly sighed," She came out of hospital, not to long ago. A bullet to the head. This man, he shot my mother. No reason, I don't think, he just held up his gun and pulled the trigger. They haven't caught him yet. He's still out there. He might come back." Molly's face hardened." She's been having nightmares or flashbacks or something. Ever since she got out of hospital. Even when she was in the hospital. She had a fit, just ran out of the ward screaming. She's been sort of...haunted ever since. Someone called Gene. She says his name at night, when she thinks I don't hear, but I do. And she's always worse around you!" She poked the face hard enough to hurt her finger," So, 'Gene', you can be sure to find yourself at the scrapyard waiting for those big crushing machines unless you...er..." It had just struck Molly that she had been talking to a car,"Er...explain? Stop it?"  


The face on the wheel remained unresponsive. Molly sighed," What good was I going to do anyway?" She brought her knee up sharply, the impact making a satisfying thud." Stupid rust bucket. Stupid thing."  


She lifted the handle for the door and cracked it open, grumbling to herself. Just what had she hoped to gain by threatening a car, for heaven's sake!  


The door stuck, and Molly pushed harder. It refused to give and instead slammed closed. Molly stared at it in consternation. "What the-!" she gasped as the seat belt wrapped around her and clicked into place, trapping her in the seat. The headlight turned on as the engine roared into life. Molly cried out in fright as the Quattro reversed out of the drive and tore down the street.  


Inside the car, Molly gaped at the steering wheel as it turned without any assistance. She didn't need to look at the speedometer to know they were miles over the speed limit.  


The car suddenly swerved, violently. At the same time, the door opened, and the seat belt released her, throwing her to the ground. Grass? thought Molly, feeling the prickle on her face, Where the hell am I?  


Molly sat up quickly. The Quattro had its headlights trained on her, as if they were eyes. Molly's eyes widened, and shock took a hold on her features as she watched it transform. The car folded in on itself, pieces of bodywork separating and finding new positions with an alien clicking. The thing that had once been the Quattro towered over her. The electric blue headlights that served as eyes were accusatory and scrutinising. The red body of the car had reformatted into some kind of armour. The red face was emblazoned on its chest.  


Molly stared up at the gigantic creature, and the creature stared back at her. Molly's face went pale as she remembered that she had threatened it with the scrap yard not too long ago.  


"Um," she whimpered, “Sorry?"  


The thing took a step towards her, and the scream that had been waiting patiently to come ever since the Quattro had abducted her came out. Sort of. In fact, it came out as a sort of: " Urk!"


End file.
